Haunting Thoughts
by Goldenwriter16
Summary: The thoughts they have will haunt them for the rest of their lives, the things they wish they could have done and the things they wish they would have said, but it's too late for them to take it all back. In the end, they all failed in their own separate, individual, ways. Contains drabbles of the thoughts of Miraculous characters and mentions of suicide. Hurt without comfort.
1. Chapter 1: Alya's thoughts

**I know this is the first story, well it's not really a story, more of a couple of drabbles about what might happen if the classmates don't realize that Lila is a liar and Marinette spirals so far out of reach. Point is, this is the first story I've posted on Miraculous Ladybug. (Honestly, I think I have a thing for angst with Miraculous Ladybug). I'm thinking about doing a one-shot for each character, well maybe not every character, but maybe the main five. (Including Marinette). I don't know, I just had a random bout of inspiration to write this, even though it is kind of depressing and a bit darker than my normal stuff.**

* * *

_Alya's thoughts_

* * *

As children, we believe that the line between good and evil, right and wrong, truth and lie, are so easy to decipher. In childish scrawl, we depict the liar with bold words in bright red colors stamped across her forehead and the trustworthy are viewed as people with a halo-effect surrounding them.

You think it's so easy. You tell yourself that you'd be able to spot the liar a mile away, that every bell in your head would go off when she opened her mouth to speak.

You're wrong.

You don't notice anything off about her. You value her stories like they are your favorite type of candy, you don't realize (or you ignore) that too much candy is bad for you. Every word that pours from her mouth has you so tightly ensnared in her trap, that you don't realize there is netting surrounding you until it's too late. You love the stories and you encourage her to tell more, believing whole-heartedly that the stories are nonfiction. (Maybe a small part of you thinks something is off, but you ignore it because you tell yourself that you'd know and that helps you sleep at night.)

You believe in her, because she tells you what you want to hear, (she admits that when you're not around).

Then, at some point, her stories turn from amazing feats she has experienced to your classmate and you still believe them. A sliver of doubt wraps around you, and you don't notice her smirk after you turn your gaze to your friend.

You don't listen to your friend, not even when she stutters how untrue the lie is and when you look back at the liar, you see the hint of the smirk, but you ignore it because it's like a trick of the light. You tell yourself that your friend is wrong when she begins to point out the hole in the fabrication of the stories your storyteller is telling you. You tell yourself that she's just jealous.

You don't understand why your friend doesn't like the new girl. You thought that she wasn't so petty about her jealousy, but you've seen extremes and you tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, your friend went off the deep end.

(She did, but not the one you're thinking of)

So, you push. You push the friend to give the new girl a chance, even when your friend starts to frown and insist that something is off about the girl. You don't notice your friend biting her lip so hard it bleeds. You don't notice anything wrong with your friend, only thinking of your new friend and how she must be hurting so bad because of the rejection.

You go to comfort the new friend, leaving the girl you called your best friend in the shadows. You don't hear her cries and sobs.

After a while, you get annoyed with your old friend, so you seek out the new friend and the new friend whispers stories into your ear to distract you. You're distracted for a little bit, before the topic of your old friend comes up at just the right time and you're undeniably angry at what you just heard.

You confront her the next day, telling everyone what your new friend just told you and they're righteously angry at the classmate they elected to be their class president.

They're so angry, so, so angry that they don't let her get a word in. You don't realize that from the beginning, you started to value the new girl's word over your friend's. You don't realize when your old friend stops reaching out to you. You're so caught up in the new girl and her stories.

You forget about your best friend, because you're replacing her with the liar.

You don't notice how strained her smile becomes. You don't notice when her eyes become so, so far away. You don't notice her laugh becoming hollow.

_She was a friend, a classmate, a daughter, a hero in her own right_.

You don't notice anything is wrong, long after you've turned your attention to your new friend and ignore the classmate you adored. You don't notice when adore becomes adored, because you don't adore her any more.

You decide, with the class, to have a new class president election and soon you and your new friend (the storyteller) are secretary and president, respectively.

You don't notice how quiet your friend has become.

You don't realize that you haven't paid her much thought at all in the past months, other than to scold her for not befriending the new girl, but the new girl isn't new anymore and sometimes her stories are wrong, but you don't think all of them are, so you let it slide.

…..

It's a stormy night, rain slashing at the windows and you're still awake, bored out of your mind because the bad feeling you've had since lunch time is now in full effect and nothing distracts you long enough.

It's approaching midnight and you still can't bring yourself to sleep. You slid out of bed, grab your raincoat and sneak out of your house. You walk around aimlessly for almost an hour, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.

You're so tired, but sleep is so far away.

When you hear the sirens and see the flashing blue and red lights, you're stunned. But then, the reporter in you rears its ugly head and you're moving forward.

You surge towards the scene, ready to see what all the excitement is about.

You don't realize where you are until it's too late, (like when everything unfurls itself), as you see your friend's body being wheeled out on a stretcher.

It happens in slow motion, because you don't understand what you're seeing. Then your ears start ringing, and you hear the mother crying and the father is crying and you don't realize you're crying until you're on your knees, but it's too late to take back all the months you've neglected her.

It's too late for you to say you're sorry. (And you want to apologize for everything. Every word you've said to her because she was your best friend and you loved her)

...

You realize the liar's colors too late (at your friend's funeral to add salt to the wound).

Everyone realizes that girl is a liar and the moment of triumph is shattered by the fact that you can't do anything than take the title of class president away from her. She's already won.

When the next akuma is released, you're surprised when Ladybug doesn't show up at all, but sometimes that happens with Cat Noir and you let it slide because you're still grieving everything you ruined and you can't bring yourself to record the fight.

It happens over and over again, Cat Noir catching the dark butterflies in jars and carting them away somewhere. The damage is healed by the normal ladybugs and you tell yourself that maybe your idol knew your best friend and is mourning like you.

It's weeks before the lines connect for you, and you realize that your idol is gone, and you can't say sorry to her, either.

You can't say sorry to Marinette or Ladybug because they are one and the same and they're both dead, and a sinking feeling tells you, it's your fault.

And every night haunts you, because you can still hear the wailing of the cat, begging for his partner to come back and you squeeze your pillow tighter, because you failed someone you once called your best friend.

(She's at peace)


	2. Chapter 2: Adrien's thoughts

**This is what happens when I have random bouts of inspiration, I start writing so much that I'm so tired and I'm publishing stuff that I wouldn't otherwise publish if I was fully awake. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story and I'm sorry for the sadness and angst, I honestly have no idea why I am writing like this. Thank you for reading.**

* * *

_Adrien's Thoughts_

* * *

People think you're naïve, but you're not entirely. Contrary to what they all think, you know and understand things, especially regarding the specific actions of people.

Having your entire life spent under the lenses of multiple cameras and people telling you to act a certain way, you can pick fake smiles from real smiles. To you, it's so easy to be able to tell who's fake smiling because of sadness, their eyes remain sad and have a sheen of tears misting over them. Other fake smiles have a hint of teeth gritting together and the slight twitch of narrowed eyes.

You know the difference between sad fake smiles and angry fake smiles.

You know the new girl is lying, but you don't want an akuma and one day she will be caught in the web of her lies. You don't want to expose her, because you deal with akumas everyday and it sucks when they target you because then you're so close to having your identity compromised.

You know you and your class mate are in it together, because you both can spot the liar.

You don't think the liar is hurting anyone because she's not saying any rumors or anything, just spinning tales of her adventures with famous people that half the class admires. You just ignore her for the time being and shrug her off when she latches onto your arm, waving you around like you're her trophy.

It goes on like that for a while, so long, that you're used to it.

So, you're surprised when the liar brings up your friend in one of her tales. You're even more surprised when the class crowds around the liar and scolds your friend. They don't listen when she stutters and sputters and stares after them for a long time with mist-covered eyes.

You can't talk to her because the teacher finally gets a handle on the class and the lesson resumes.

You try to catch her later, but you have so many obligations, that the long paragraph of reassuring words you try to offer her is cut short and you can only smile at her and pat her on the shoulder, showing your support. You give her your number, knowing that she had a fake smile on her face (you know it's the sad kind because you wear it too). You want to help her, because you know that it hurts her to know that her friends trusted someone else over her.

You're somewhat angry at them too, because, how could they? How could they throw away someone so amazing, an everyday Ladybug that would do anything for them, for someone that lies to them? But they're blind and they haven't had their eyes opened yet. You hold onto that, because otherwise you might hurt them.

…..

You flip between yourself and your superhero identity to help your classmate, because you think of her as a fair princess. (Not the old ones who sit and wait to be saved, but the new ones who somewhat need support but can save themselves). It helps her, even though she still has their other friends, even though the other friends are pushing her to befriend the liar.

You're almost proud when she doesn't flip so easily, when she doesn't give into peer pressure.

But you know it hurts her because her best friend isn't listening to her. (You also know that Ladybug is hurt for some reason, too) And you think that if you can't help one, you'll at least try and help the other.

You're not blind. You may struggle with social interaction, but you can tell when your new friend becomes sad. When she smiles, but it's so strained but no one else notices and you try to help but people are constantly pulling you away and you have a fashion event for a week coming up.

You hate that you can't be there for either of the hurting girls in your life and your kwami is of no help.

…..

A week is a long time. You know that, but you can't believe the state of things when you come back. You can't believe how bad things are and it's too late to speak against the liar because none of them will listen.

They're completely wrapped around her finger because of something she told them during the week you were gone.

You try and talk to your friend, but she's so far away from you. She's there physically, but she's so, so, so far away and you can't reach her anymore. Not as your civilian self, anyways. Because her smile is still strained, her eyes are further away from you (the bluebell color you admire becoming dull and sad and hopeless, you hate it), and her laugh is so hollow that soon enough she stops laughing.

She's giving up, and you hate watching her fall.

You want to pull away too, because you can't watch her circle the drain, and you do, (you later hate yourself for it, but you've lost so many people in your life that you can't bare the loss of your everyday Ladybug), as your civilian self, of course.

If Adrien can't reach her, then Cat Noir can, and he does. He reaches her, and she smiles with him, the real smile that you adore, and her bluebell eyes are so happy to see the hero version of you. (Mysteriously, Ladybug drifts closer to you, but you're so happy that she's getting better that you don't care)

Everything's ok for a little bit, but of course, the liar shatters everything.

There's a revote for class president and you see everyone vote for the liar and your friend's ex-best friend as president and secretary respectively.

The progress made goes down the drain and your friend isn't even trying to smile anymore. You keep trying to help her, but it's not enough because she's so sad. She's so miserable without someone she trusted.

You reach out to her as both versions of you, but neither one of you can reach her, she's too far away.

…..

You're the one who finds her.

You knew that she was drowning, and you kept trying to pull her above the icy cold water, but her feet aren't kicking to her up anymore and it's a deadweight and you start drowning as well.

You don't care because you find the note, it's settled next to her with a pair of stud earrings next to it. It takes a minute, a full minute of you falling to your knees and begging for her to come back, to wake up and smile and laugh and say she's joking. That this is her revenge for you calling her princess, but she doesn't move. Nothing in her moves and she's so cold and so pale and her lips are turning blue.

You realize in the next minute as you read the note, (it's a suicide note and it's for you and her parents).

You beg for her to come back even harder, because she's your best friend, she's your partner, she's the love of your life, your soul mate, and she means the world to you. But you can't tell her any of it, because it's too late.

You were too late and you're crying so loud her parents run upstairs and they see too, they read the note too and you sob and cry together before you can't stay any longer and you leave with the Ladybug miraculous.

…..

Everyone comes to the funeral. Even the classmates who neglected and abandoned her and you clench your fist, you don't wan to dishonor her by picking a fight at her funeral.

They begin to realize, far too late, that the liar is a liar and the girl they had shunned was telling the truth. But they're too late and you don't forgive them, because of them you lost your everything and your soul aches for her return and the kwami you took back with you is sobbing in your pocket, because of the loss of her chosen. But, you're too angry to do anything, other than glare at them, because even if your soul mate doesn't blame them, you do.

But they're naïve and they don't realize that they have ruined everything for you and you keep yourself together until your Cat Noir and your sobbing and pleading and screaming for your partner to come back.

But she's never coming back, and you want nothing more than to join her where she is.

(Two miraculouses find their way to Master Fu's shop as the headlines rage about the death of a young teen model.)


	3. Chapter 3: Nino's thoughts

**I didn't even plan on making Nino's this long, it just sort of happened, but anyways here's Nino's thoughts. This was really sad for me to write, seeing as a lot of my childhood friendships have dissipated after a year-long friendship. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the thoughts of Nino if things go south with the Lila situation. I hope they don't, I really do and I hope that the friends are less dumb than the show has represented them as so far.**

* * *

Things were different when you were younger, before people grew older and their interests changed and the way they spoke changed. Your parents told you, while patting your head with a sad smile that people drift apart. You used to be best friends with her, when you were younger, before lies and rumors and relentless bullies that tormented you both. Both of your parents would remark that you were tied together at the hip, never one seen without the other.

You strive to see when that changed, but you were so young, and things become so muddled as you got older. Your memories are filled with long hours in front of your computer, arranging notes in a song and marveling over a D.J. booth that was worth more than your house, including everything in it.

Either way, somewhere along the lines, you drifted apart from your best friend as you both changed, like notes changing in a song, sometimes they don't go so harmoniously together, and you must change them, you might not want to, but you have to.

Then you both get new best friends, and everything is ok because instead of two, it's four and it's so much fun.

Then a new girl comes to school and she's so kind and sweet and she has a copy of your headphones, but they're signed by Jagged Stone with a personalized message. You wear them all the time, bragging about how cool they are, and the new girl is welcomed into your group by you and your girlfriend (the best friend of the girl who used to be your best friend). Your new best friend is welcoming too, in his kind way.

It's your old friend that has you worried. She doesn't like the new girl, her usually kind disposition retreating away and there is something raw and deep, not like a petty annoyance. You falter, although your girlfriend assures you that it's nothing, that your old friend is jealous of the new girl and your best friend's relationship.

You accept that answer because you've heard some tales of jealousy, but there is something in the back of your head that assures you something is off. That your girlfriend's answer wasn't quite right, but you ignore that voice because the new girl got you signed headphones and she's so sugary and sweet and kind.

And she's telling you all these stories, stories that have your attention because they are ridiculously cool and she's a seriously nice girl. You don't understand why your old friend dislikes her so much, she's a seriously nice girl, but you let it go because some notes just don't go together.

It's your girlfriend that doesn't let the issues drop.

She doesn't leave your old friend alone about befriending the new girl and you just want things to be harmonious and peaceful the way they were before the new girl came. At first, you argue that your old friend is entitled to not have to be friends with the same people you and your girlfriend are, that your dude doesn't care for the new girl either, but your girlfriend is stubborn (part of the reason you love her so much) and once she has an idea, she doesn't let it rest.

You're trying to find the peace, but the song is becoming all wrong as some notes don't sound as good together as before, and you just really want it to be perfect and harmonious as it once was.

…..

It takes one sentence for the peace to shatter completely, into tiny unfixable shards that ruin the song completely and you have to trash it because there's no salvaging it. Your new friend said something involving your old friend and you're so astounded by the sentence, that your first instinct is to look at your old friend accusingly (you ignore when your best friend kicks you in the shin).

You turn to look at the new girl, seeing the tears welled up in her eyes and the frown settling firmly over her place and you try to find the proof in her expression.

You don't want to believe that your old friend could be so cruel, but she is an old friend and maybe you don't know her as well as you did when you were younger. The headphones flash in neon against your inner eye and you force it away, you're not going to go off of petty headphones. You don't realize that the new girl has completely won your trust with those petty headphones.

Later on, you want to catch your old friend, try and hear out her side of the story, but her and your best friend are in a deep conversation that looks too personal and you don't want to intrude on them. Your girlfriend calls you over, the new girl by her side with sweet smile on her face (you don't notice her glare on your best friend and old friend, the cold calculation behind the look). Torn, you look back at your old friend and best friend and decide to go with your girlfriend.

(Later on, after everything's said and done, you wonder if you would have made the same decision.)

…..

Your girlfriend is talking at you at the speed of light, her words bunching together and her hands waving at her sides and she looks so frazzled that you just take her in your arm and try to comfort her.

A second later, you realize she is crying, and your shoulder is soaked from her tears.

You ask her what's wrong, but she doesn't answer for several long minutes, hiccupping and crying. When you pull back, she is taking off her glasses and trying to wipe at them without smudging or scratching them, her eyes stained red.

You hug her again, because you don't want to see her cry and it makes your heart ache when she cries and looks at you with tear-filled eyes.

You try to ask her what's wrong again, and this time, she has an answer.

As she talks, this time slower and more comprehendible, you take your red cap off and toss it back and forth between your hands, contemplating your new knowledge. You can't believe what you just heard, you can't believe it, it's so unlike the little girl who used to be tied to your hip, but it does explain things. Like why your old friend disliked the new girl so much, but you can't piece together the girl you girlfriend is describing with the face you've known since kindergarten.

Suddenly, white-hot anger is trailing up and down you and the next day you confront your old friend. The rest of the class is there too, and they're understandably angry as well and you're so sure that if your best friend was here, he'd be angry too, but he's away at fashion week so he doesn't know.

…..

You're surprised when he comes back and doesn't even look at you, and hurt too, unbelievably hurt, and immediately goes to sit with your old friend.

You can't believe that your best friend was picking your old friend over you. But it's not you he'd be choosing to side with, it's the new girl. Your girlfriend spends the entire class sending you memes and the like to cheer you up, it helps, but not much because that was your thing with your best friend.

You guess you're not friends anymore.

And it's hard, it's hard to listen to him tell your old friend jokes and it makes you angry because according to what she did, he should be on the new girl's side with you, not against you.

A week later, you confront him about it.

It's much more silent and private than when you confronted your old friend, but the words are even more meaningful. He's upset with you too, because you didn't listen to your old friend's side of the story at all, he tells you how badly you're hurting your old friend, but then you see the new girl and she's crying silently at the front.

Your ex-best friend stares at you for a long time and you're trying to find something to say to amend the situation, but it can't be amended and instead you both head your separate ways.

Later on, you trash that music sheet because the notes aren't harmonious anymore and you wonder at that new headphones the new girl gave you.

…..

Everything after is a blur, between the reelection for class president and secretary and all the school work your trudging forwards, especially physics because you don't really want to look at it without your best friend.

It's hard and suddenly you have an understanding with your old friend, even though it is silent, and she probably can't feel it from wherever she is.

Then, the downpour starts. Rains and thunder and lightning and you're awaken by your phone, the special ringtone for your girlfriend going off in the middle of the night. You answer, aware of the storm you almost slept through and everything that you had understood earlier shatters beyond repair.

You can't take it back anymore, you can't tell your old friend that you want to hear what she has to say anymore, it's all gone.

Every smile. Every laugh. Every joke. Gone, within the matter of an evening and you try to not cry for your girlfriend, because she's sobbing on the other end and you're getting your shoes and an umbrella and running out of the house. Uncaring that you awoke your parents and brother on the way out.

When you get there, your girlfriend is on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably and you pull her into your arms. The sobs of the parents of your old friend is ringing in your ears and you trying to keep yourself together, but it's so hard.

She was your first best friend and you can't even tell her that you wish you could take every cold word you said to her back, because she's dead. She's dead and it's on you, you could have done something, anything, and you just sat back because of those stupid headphones.

It's like a veil is lifting above your eyes and clarity hits you, the lies and deception crystal clear and highlighted in your mind.

You can't admit any of this to your girlfriend yet, because her hurt is so raw and you're afraid this will break her. You keep it to yourself, meeting eyes with the wailing hero you idolized.

It's like you're being sucker punched, seeing the result of your inaction.

…..

The funeral is sad and cold and it's still raining, the torrential downpour it had been the night your old friend _died_ still roaring in your ears. Like the Earth is mourning the loss of your old friend too. You have an umbrella and you keep trying to meet your ex-best friend's gaze, but he's not looking at you.

When he does look at you, there is a look of absolute anger and disgust seething behind his emerald eyes and you can't bring yourself to talk to him. You mouth to him that you know. Maybe he doesn't understand what you know exactly, that the new girl was a liar, that your old friend was a hero in every way of the word, or that you understand why he doesn't forgive you.

It's probably all three.

It's the last time you see him, at her funeral. In the next few days he doesn't go to school and there's no Ladybug saving the day, because she's dead and there's only Cat Noir before he's gone too. Some say it was because he was unable to be a hero without his partner, that yin and yang can't be without each other, but you know the two civilians that wore the mask and you know just how intertwined they have always been.

You go to his funeral two weeks later, with your girlfriend holding the umbrella over your heads and you're both crying, and you squeeze her tighter because she's all that's left of the four of you.

You lost one best friend when you were young because of drifting.

You lost another best friend because you were too blind to see the truth (even with your glasses)

(And they both left the world together.)


	4. Chapter 4: Chloe's thoughts

**I know that some people may not like the idea of good Chloe or Chloe getting redemption, but I am one of the people who actually like that idea because I feel that her mother had had a heavy influence on her, which made her a bully, but she could still become good. Anyways, if you don't like the idea of Chloe being redeemed than I don't suggest you read this or the chapters after it, the earlier ones don't really mention her redemption. I hope most of you enjoy the chapter though. **

* * *

There are two types of people in this world, your mother used to say as she primped herself in front of her large some-karat gold mirror, those who do whatever it takes to get what they want and those who roll over and allow what they want to slip away.

As a child, you took those words into stride, your mother is a fashion icon and she didn't get where she was by rolling over and playing nice. You mimicked your mother's style, because she was your idol, she was rich, famous, and had every materialistic thing you could ever want. You purchased yourself a lovely, trendy pair of white glasses that were almost identical to your mom's, adding your own flair to it so that you weren't labeled a copycat.

Copycats were bad, you used to think, you didn't want to copycat things because that was considered cheating.

Your mom changed that view in a matter of words, slurring that cheaters are the ones who are sharks and the world needed sharks.

It was easy to recede into the image your mother wanted to present, stylish but a shark, it sounded nice. You met your first best friend at one of the events your mother hosted, and you could thank her for that, because if it wasn't for her attitude, you wouldn't have met your first best friend. He was kind and sweet, if not a little shy and you loved playing games with him while the adults had their grown-up talks.

Until school started, you did everything together, you spent every day together playing games and doing anything of the like. (When you were both innocent and naïve.) Of course, his father didn't let him attend school and even if you cried and pleaded and begged for the man to let your best friend come, he didn't budge an inch. Later, your mother scolded you for shaming her and her name and you spent the night in your room, hugging the stuffed animal she had given to you when you were younger.

School was nice, the teachers were nice and so were some of the classmates, but the things they talked about was a little odd to you in regards to family. You made friends with some of them, but the friendship didn't last because your mother disapproved of them. She wrinkled her nose when you talked about them and told you that you shouldn't be friends with people that were lesser than you, that you should surround yourself with gorgeous things.

So, those friendships faded because you didn't want to be friends with people your mother disapproved of and it was rather lonely. But you had your best friend outside of school and those days were fun.

…..

You don't know when you started being mean, maybe it was around the time your mother left for New York (she didn't abandon you, she would come back for you because you were her daughter, you would tell yourself.) But it was satisfying to see some of your classmates cry over the words you'd say, it made you feel better because now they felt as sad as you did. Sure, the teacher tried to scold you for it, but you'd just bring up that your daddy was the major and the issue would drop.

It went like that for years, then a girl in your class grew a backbone and began talking back to you around the time that your best friend enrolled at the school and the superheroes came into the light.

Suddenly, what you'd say caused people to be akumatized (you weren't naïve, you know that they blamed you for it all when in reality, they should have thicker skin.) But there were always heroes darting around and saving the day. So, it didn't matter, and you continued to say the things you did because your mother wasn't even answering her phone anymore.

You made another friend who listened and was there for you, (though you heard the other classmates sympathize for the girl and tell her she didn't have to be your servant.) And your old best friend drifted away from you, telling you that you needed to stop being so hurtful, but he didn't understand you like she did. Either way, you couldn't bring yourself to let him go, he was your first best friend after all and all the things from your childhood hadn't just dissipated into nothing.

You tried to change, but it was like a habit, so hard to break because it had become your routine, and you hated your classmates even more because they were suddenly so happy, and you couldn't make them as sad as you anymore.

Even if you did change, it didn't matter anymore, they had their image of you sealed into their brain and nothing would ever erase it.

…..

Then, the new girl came and seeing as you had done many things before the events of becoming a superhero (you were striving to get better and easy-enough to say, making progress, even so that your old best friend started to hang out with you.) You could tell the girl was a liar and so could your best friend because of all the messes the two of you had been involved in. Once clear, it was so easy to see the lies spewing from her mouth and you wondered how idiotic and dumb the people in the class must be to not see it too.

Then your rival (who had been one of the friends you had made in kindergarten) spoke up, discrediting the stories, but surprisingly enough, no one listened. They dismissed her words as if they meant nothing and you couldn't even fight off your shock.

Didn't these classmates value the class president's opinion? Why would they shut her down so quickly?

You decided that yes, they were stupid enough to actually believe the bullshit.

You didn't care so much that they knew the truth, because it was hilarious watching them eat it up like starving vultures. Reporter girl actually posted some of the stories on her blog, which was even more hilarious seeing the many, many people that commented on the bizarreness of the stories. That should have raised doubt, but it didn't, if anything they just defended the liar and called the commenter a bully and blocked her for harassment.

It was hilarious watching the credibility of the Ladyblog go down, but the humor faded after a while and you began to wonder at the sheer stupidity of your classmates (the teacher included.)

Then, you noticed something one day when you were bored, that your rival was being given accusing looks by the stupid classmates and you didn't even care why (it was probably some lie or something), but it was surprising. These people voted for your rival to become class president over you and yet they were quick to value someone else's word. That was the day you decided to actually pay attention to the stories and jot them down in the margins of your notebook.

Later, you would pull up evidence against the liar and you would send that evidence, (anonymously, of course) to the Ladyblog.

There was no response. The email left on read and you frowned to yourself, wondering why reporter girl wouldn't so much as look into the email, but of course, she didn't, and you were getting tired of all the attention the new girl was getting, and it wasn't like the popularity you had. Very few people, you found, didn't like the stories and discredited them all the time but the vast majority fed into them.

Even you tried to pull up the evidence in the middle of the class, but everyone (other than your rival and old best friend) glared at you at even the mention of the liar being a liar and the new girl turned the crocodile tears on. (It was a surprise that they even fell for that, seeing as they never fell for it with you.)

…..

You were at a fashion event for a week with your old best friend, where you somewhat reconnected and both breached the topic of the liar. You were somewhat surprised that he knew, because he had always been a touch naïve, but you were also happy because it meant you weren't going insane.

Suddenly, when you get back, everything's gone to shit.

Quite literally, you were very surprised at the amount of shit that had escaped the liar's mouth in the span of a week. Anything you said was glared at and frowned at and now your rival sat in the back, but even without look at her, you knew she was depressed.

It didn't take a genius to figure that part out.

Then again, this class had never really had many geniuses.

You, since she had gotten you some contact and closure with you mom, tried to talk to her about it, but she just flashed the sad fake smile and told you not to worry. You don't know when you somewhat became close, maybe it was because you could both bond over your shared knowledge of the liar or the fact that you both cared about Adrien. Either way, your mother's words from a long time ago were dismissed and you started to hang out together.

It didn't last long, she was depressed and sad and had been stabbed in the back. You could understand there was nothing you really could have done to change that or the past, and you didn't try to talk her down so much, you just listened.

Most people would have talked her down, but you knew better, you knew she just needed someone to listen to her. To accept that she wasn't ok without forcing her to be ok and making her crawl deeper into herself.

You understood one another and there was a potential for a good friendship, had the liar not destroyed everything when she suggested the reelection.

The results of that just made everything worse, but you did get to say goodbye to her, because she had left you a lengthy voicemail thanking you and telling you where to go get the bee miraculous.

It was then that you knew she was Ladybug, your idol, but you weren't as angry about that as you thought you would be. Before everything, you might have been, but you couldn't bring yourself to be in the present, because you both had changed (you had changed a lot.) If anything, it made sense and you were almost happy that it had been her, she deserved that honor, especially the praise spoken about her after everyone else realized it too and a lengthy article was posted on it.

It was after both funerals, the one of your previous-rival-but-now-somewhat-friend and the one of your first best friend (it had been difficult, but you understood why he did it, because you couldn't see Cat Noir without his Ladybug.)

At some point, the class had realized that the new girl was a liar and that they had shunned their everyday Ladybug and Ladybug, but there wasn't much they could do other than to take the title of class president away from her. Sometime later, she was moved to a different school because of the reveal of everything that had happened in between the war of Lila and Marinette.

You had wanted no part of any of it and you couldn't forgive your own best friend for not listening to you. In the end, it was just the way it was.

(Even from where they were, they were both proud of how far you have come.)


	5. Chapter 5: Marinette's thoughts

**Alright, this is Marinette's version of everything, her thoughts as she sees the class turned against her. It's not concrete or anything like the previous chapters, more of inner thoughts rather than the actions of the people surrounding her. Another thing that is special about this is that she's talking in the first person, her thoughts are spoken in the first person. I know that's kind of weird of me to do, but I couldn't help it. The idea popped in my head when I was struggling with my own emotions, and I just thought that I would see the turn it could take. **

**Another change that you'll notice is that the 'you' changes with the five dots (can you guess the reason I did five dots instead of page breakers?). In the first segment it is the classmates in general, along with the teachers being the 'you'. I also tried to close with that idea. The rest of the segments are in order of the chapters leading up to this point. I figured I'd do this at the beginning so you're less confused reading the entire chapter the first time (if you read it more than once.) I hope that that key was helpful to you and I really hope you enjoy the story.**

* * *

Do you ever feel like a wave of darkness is settling over you? Like a thin sheet is covering your vision and everything becomes darker? Smiles turn to sneers. Kind eyes mock you. Sweet words tell you that you're nothing.

Too smart. Too dumb. Too skinny. Too fat. Too tall. Too short. Too happy. Too sad.

They all want me to be different, they all want to shift me for their betterment. They don't stop to think of how I feel with their pushing and pulling. It's pressure, constant, endless pressure that is weighing down on me, shoving me into the ground and making everything dark and sad and twisted, instead of the brightness and shininess that things used to be.

I do (did) everything for them, they ask me to do something, I do it. I bend over backwards (as myself and as the lady-bug spotted hero that you idolize), I take a stand, so they can have their seat cushions or anything else they want. I'd like to think that those things matter. But they don't, do they?

Did anything I did before matter? Or was it all outshined and put in the background of what someone says I did? Did you stop to ask me what happened, why I don't like _her_, other than jumping to conclusions?

You didn't.

You never asked, you assumed that I was jealous. I'll admit, I have not been good about jealousy in the past, I've been blinded by it, but she's not a challenge to me. Even if she was, I would never do the things you accuse me of doing.

You should've known I would never do that.

Why didn't you listen? Why did you shun me? Because I don't want to be friends with the same person you do? Is that really a good reason to you?

Why did you value her word over mine from the start? Even before this entire mess started with her lies and her rumors (I would never injure someone on purpose, I thought you knew that). Even before, you didn't believe me, I would point out how she was wrong, and you wouldn't believe me.

Jealousy is what you chalk it up to, but it's not that. It's me not wanting to watch you be manipulated and lied to.

I don't think I'll ever have an answer from you. I can assume that you were blinded, you saw a shiny object and you thought for sure it was diamond, but in the end, it was just a rock that had caught the sunlight.

…..

She's not a good liar, everything she's said can not be backed up, if you just investigated it, you would see that. You would see how everything falls apart when you ask the right questions.

We were best friends.

At least, I thought we were. I thought best friends stick by each other's side, I thought best friends listened to each other. I thought all of these things about how it was supposed to be, all the time because it wasn't that way. I thought it while I sat in the back of the class (another lie she had spouted about some medical injury, although I seriously wonder why none of the teachers investigated it.) I thought it when you ditched me for her. I thought it when you stopped wanting to hang out with me.

I thought it all the time.

But thinking didn't change anything, it just made the pain worse. (I've seen the pretty purple butterflies coming after me when I'm alone at night.) Somehow, I'm ok. Somehow, I'm not akumatized, but there are so many of them, crowding and circling me like moths to an open flame.

I'd like to think you wouldn't want that. But I don't know you anymore, you're not the same girl you were when we first met (it took a long time for me to admit that neither was I).

…..

You were one of the good things, you always made me smile. Always made me laugh and think that there was a light at the end of the dark tunnel.

I don't think that I've thanked you enough for just being there, because I needed you to be there and you came. Both versions of you came through for me. I didn't thank you enough for that, and you were enough.

You were enough for me. I wish I could say that to you forever (you deserve to hear that everyday for the rest of your life), because you were.

I'm sorry that I couldn't stand on my own without you. I'm sorry that I pushed you away. I'm sorry that I put you through what I put you through kitten (everything made so much sense to me after I figured out who you were, because I loved both sides of you, the superhero and the kind, sweet boy who sat with me when I was forced to sit alone.) I'm so sorry.

I love you. My heart will always be yours, both sides of me and both sides of you. I wish I could have had more time to tell you that. (I wish a lot of things, but that is one of the main things I will always wish for when I drift off.)

I hope that there is another life after this, I hope that we find each other again, someday so that I can love you and so that I can spend that lifetime telling you how much you truly matter to me. (There will never be a past tense with us.)

…..

We used to be good friends, didn't we? When we were little and young, and we didn't know what the future had in store for us. Somedays, I can remember the reason why we drifted, but other days I can't remember because everything became so muddled and mixed up as we got older.

I do remember the fun. I remember the fun we had when it became four of us, instead of two. I remember all of that and I treasure those memories.

I have so many questions for you, old friend.

Why didn't you defend me? Why didn't you at least fact-check some of her stories? Why did you let your girlfriend try to peer pressure me into being friends with someone I clearly don't want to be friends with?

Maybe the past tense in "used to be" means that you can believe them because we're not friends like that anymore.

Either way, you know me. You've grown up with me, we've gone to school together for our entire school education. Why wouldn't you at least ask **me** if any of her stories were true considering how long we've known each other?

I do miss you. I really do.

But I don't understand why my words had such little value to you.

…..

Rivals.

Always at opposite ends of everything.

Light and dark. Positive and negative. Happy and sad.

As rivals, we competed against each other so many times, challenging each other, I'd like to think that we helped each other, even though we didn't get along.

That was another good part about after everything, because it showed how when I needed people in my corner, you can come through for me, queen bee.

Our friendship was short, but there was a lot of meaning behind it, a lot of value. Given time, I'm sure we could have been great friends, best friends or frenemies. You listened, you didn't try to force my words back in my mouth or tell me that I needed help, you just listened to me. You listened when I cried over the betrayal that cut so deep. Through everything we've been through, the fights, the digs at each other, you came through for me when my best friend didn't.

In that short time, you changed my perspective, because I knew there was good in you, (there always was, we were just too stubborn to look for it.) I knew that you could be a hero the city needs to deal with those who fall.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was a coward and left you a voicemail. I'm sorry that our friendship didn't have a chance to grow.

…..

Drowning. Waves lapsing overhead, and I can't keep myself up. I've tried so hard to keep myself floating within the storming sea, but it's so hard because I just want to rest. I want to stop struggling to get to the top.

I want the water to stop invading my lungs when I try to gasp for air.

I want (wanted) so many things. I want the waves to stop forcefully dragging me under, I want the seas to settle and I want something, anything to keep me afloat. Don't let me drown, don't let the water pull me under.

Let everything stop. (Stop yelling at me for things I couldn't even imagine doing!)

Stop telling me to smile when you're shoving my head underwater. Stop expecting me to laugh when I want to curl into a corner and cry and I want to give up. Stop forcing me to listen to you tell me I'm horrible for not wanting to befriend someone. It's not fair to me. I don't think I deserve that.

Why does _her_ word mean so much to you? Why do you keep forgetting that too much candy is bad for you? Why don't you listen to my side of the story?

There's a hero that you adore, a confident hero that doesn't delve into her civilian life with anyone, even people who claim to be her best friend (the liar). You adore her. You idolize her. You've had full confidence in her from the start because she was your savior and your protector.

The only difference between her and me is the ladybug-spotted mask she wears, (it took a long time for my confidence to build for me to accept that).

Sometimes, I'm surprised you don't know that I'm her and she's me and that the person you idolize was your class president. (It hurt when you decided that I didn't deserve that role anymore. It hurt when you decided to not listen to me, it hurt when I was screaming at you until my voice went raw, but my words never carried through to you.)

The person you scold for not liking someone is the hero you adore, the hero that saves lives.

The person you scold for jealousy is one of the heroes of Paris.

The person you wouldn't listen to is the hero you idolize.

Sometimes, I wish the glamour wasn't so strong. I wish that you would see how alike we are and how I didn't do any of the things _she _accused me of doing. I wish that you would remember the girl I used to be, the girl who handmade every gift she ever gave. The girl who brought in free food from a bakery owned by her parents. The girl who bent over backwards for you because she wanted you to be happy. The girl you considered your everyday Ladybug.

I know that you might thing that the "used to be" means that I'm just like _she_ says I am. But, that's not what that means.

Because I'm not the girl who would smile at strangers anymore. I'm not the girl who was positive and happy and bright and shiny anymore. I'm not the same girl I used to be anymore.

My feet stopped kicking. I stopped holding myself just above the waves and I let myself fall because I can't fight anymore. I'm tired and I don't want to fight anymore, I want to rest. Let me rest my broken heart.


End file.
